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The light above Dane’s head came from a hole in the roof. A thin wisp of white clouds progressed gently across vivid blue sky as he watched, lying on his back. He blocked out conscious reflection of his situation for the slightest of moments, feeling the comfort of cool, soft ground beneath him, the scent of wet grass or hay completing his newest tableau.
His moment of bliss passed too quickly and reluctantly he raised himself up on his elbows, then instantly regretted it. The pounding in his head made him feel like someone had been using it as an anvil for several days. He sat up fully and rubbed at his temples to ease the pain.
“Good, you’re awake. Here, take this,” Dane was startled by the gruff voice and turned his head towards the source. A large red-bearded man in a plain black uniform sat atop a stack of hay, just beyond the bars of Dane’s latest prison cell. He held an Imperial coil pistol casually leveled at Dane. The uniform he wore had no sign of rank or insignia of any kind. It only took a moment for Dane to analyze his prison guard.
Mercenary, he thought.
The man had tossed a red pill through the bars that had stopped rolling across the dirt floor near Dane’s feet. “Take it,” he said again, “It’ll make you feel better in a hurry.”
“Is it poisoned?” said Dane, only half joking. The man shook his head.
“Nah, they could’ve killed you a hundred times already if they’d wanted. It’s an immunity pill, help you recover from the stungas hangover. Guess they want you in good shape before they crucify you,” then he laughed rough and brittle.
Dane pushed himself slowly across the floor, then went to hands and knees to pick up the pill. He contemplated it for a moment and then dry swallowed it. After only a few seconds his body began to react. The pill cleared his head of the hangover quickly, like a fog burning off on a sunny day. After a few minutes he went up to his knees, half expecting the pain to return. To his surprise it didn’t.
“That works fast,” said Dane. The man nodded without a word. Dane rose to his feet at last and stretched, letting the blood flow back into his limbs. As he did so he surveyed his situation. The roof and its makeshift skylight was a good twenty meters above where he had been lying on his back. He was in what was clearly a very old building made of some pre-Empire material, possibly even natural wood. His best guess was that his “cell” was actually a converted animal shelter of some kind, perhaps a horse stable or some similar structure. The bars went up well above his head, and he was fenced in on three sides by solid looking wooden walls. There was nothing to grab onto to scale the walls, and the bars were no doubt defended by a stunfield. His survey didn’t go unnoticed by his companion.
“Don’t think of escaping, royal. There’s more here than meets the eye,” the casual appearance vanished as the big man stood and held his weapon more stridently. Dane ended his stretching and surveyed his captor. He had the look of years about him, full biceps, bent nose, unkempt hair. As large as he was, well over 2 meters, his body was stocky and solid. Every motion, no matter how slight, was filled with an inherent power and physical strength. He didn’t look like the kind of man who could be easily deceived into giving away information he didn’t want to. Dane decided to take the direct approach.
“Where am I ?” he asked.
“Hummph,” the man grunted and looked away.
“You won’t talk?” said Dane.
“Plenty more coming for that, royal,” said the man, nodding his head toward a path that led away from Dane’s cell. Dane heard the sound of multiple sets of boots crunching along the path towards him.
A tall man with straight black hair jutting out of a navy blue Quantar officer’s cap came up to the cell with a detachment of rifle-toting guards on either side of him. He nodded to the mercenary, who took two steps back, then turned to look at Dane. Dane placed his hands behind his back and stood tall, facing the man and his guards in the remnants of his dinner tunic and pants. He was determined not to lose his dignity regardless of the circumstances he had been placed in. He wondered absently how long ago the dinner aboard the Starliner had actually been.
The man looked to be a few years older than Dane’s twenty-six standard years. He wore the uniform of the Quantar Guard, rank of General, although he was obviously too young to have attained the post via the usual service advancement. With nothing to lose given his present circumstances, Dane chose to take the offensive and confront his captors in an annoyed tone of voice.
“Why am I here?” he snapped.
The man stood rigid in front of Dane’s cell, staring at him with unwavering solid blue eyes that initially conveyed nothing. Dane stared back, using his training to assess his adversary, looking his uniform up and down and trying to show as much distaste on his face as he could manage. This had the desired effect as the man glared back at Dane with a rising crimson flush to his face that he seemed barely able to control. This went on for several seconds and when it looked as if the General might burst from anger he turned abruptly and snapped orders at the mercenary.
“Leave us, now!”
The guard protested. “But I’m supposed to watch ‘im!”
“Now!” This time the words were shouted in red-faced rage.
“But you got no weapon!”
Dane observed this exchange closely. Anger that deeply held can lead to mistakes. And with mistakes come opportunities, he thought.
The General regained some composure as he responded. “The stun field will hold him more than adequately. I’ll call you if I need you. Now go!” He waved off his detachment of guards as well as the mercenary, who reluctantly departed. Dane had no doubt they’d be available on a moments notice.
As the guards retreated Dane heard another set of footsteps slowly approaching. A second officer came and took up position next to the General, then turned to face Dane. He recognized the officer as someone he was already intimately familiar with, or nearly so. The dress of an imperial lady had been replaced with a form-fitting Quantar Colonel’s uniform and cap, but there was no mistaking the striking beauty of the woman he had known aboard the Vixis as the Lady Calinda.
Dane debated this turn of circumstances. She had been plain aboard the Starliner that she was part of a rebel group against his father’s rule on Quantar. Clearly he had now fallen into this rebel group’s hands and was at their mercy. It didn’t explain the PKI agents desire to also see him killed. He decided that mystery would have to wait until he had solved the present one. One set of cutthroats at a time, he thought. Dane chose to ignore Calinda for the time being and concentrate on the ‘General’ as the highest ranking officer and the most likely to reveal information of consequence beyond what Calinda had already told him.
He stepped forward and glared at the General. “I asked you a question,” he said, narrowing his eyes to convey his impatience with his circumstances. “Why am I here, in this cell?” Both of them held their silence, stone faced. Dane’s military training had included a variety of psychological tactics and he chose to employ some of them now, turning his attention quickly to the woman he had known as Lady Calinda. She held his gaze evenly, not wavering, her arms held firmly at attention. Time to raise the wager, he thought. Dane allowed his eyes to roam, openly admiring her feminine form and letting his pleasure show clearly on his face.
“I had forgotten how beautiful you are,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll soon have an opportunity to renew our acquaintance, as on the Vixis. You were a delight to be with,” he taunted her, but she remained impassive. Nonetheless his tactics had the desired emotional effect upon the General, who was turning a deep red once again. He has feelings for her, thought Dane, then deposited the information for future use and once again raised the psychological stakes.
“Have you had the pleasure, General?” The General stepped towards Dane, seething.
“Cochrane!” he nearly spat the word in rage. Calinda’s hand on his arm calmed him.
“This one is not worth it, General,” she said. “Trust me, the only thing of consequence that passed between us was his arrogance and my desire to kill him. The only thing,” she added this last for emphasis.
The General calmed himself and stepped back again, then began: “I am General Devin Tannace of the Quantar Free Guard. You are here to stand trial for your crimes and for those of your family. You will be found guilty and put to death for them,” the tone was matter-of-fact.
Dane’s response was quick and even. “I have committed no crime. And what the Hell is the Quantar Free Guard?”
Tannace ignored Dane’s second question and addressed the first. “Your family’s crimes are well documented. You will be executed for them.”
At this, Dane placed his hand on his chin and paced thoughtfully around the straw-laden cell as if contemplating some great quandary. After a few moments he stopped and addressed his captors.
“I have spent the last five years of my life at the Imperial capitol on Corant, attending the Director’s Academy. Neither I nor my family have been charged with such crimes by the Empire. By what authority do you make these charges?”
Engaged now, Tannace was quick with his response. “The Quantar Planetary Code and the Union of Stellar Republics Convention of 2772 C.E. are our authority.”
Dane nodded. “The Quantar code I am familiar with, since my family wrote it. The U.S.R. code was abolished along with the Union in 2638. It no longer applies.”
Again Tannace was ready. “It applies here,” he said, gesturing with both hands open for emphasis.
At last we’re getting somewhere, thought Dane. He stepped up to the bars to ask the big question. “And where, exactly, is ‘here’?”
“Earth.”
“Earth? The Sanctuary?” Dane took an involuntary step back in genuine surprise, unable to contain his astonishment at this turn of events. He gathered his legal knowledge, which was not that extensive, from his recent education. The Sanctuary existed at the behest of the Kallaket, as a place of last refuge from the political abuses of the Imperial system. A citizen charged with a political crime could apply for asylum on Earth, and if accepted for sanctuary he or she could escape the confines of Imperial punishment. But once Sanctuary was officially given an Imperial citizen could never return to their former life without first serving out their full sentence in an Imperial prison. The Kallaket families used the Sanctuary as a dumping ground for a host of undesirables, confident that most would never risk returning. The laws of the Sanctuary were unique unto themselves, and Dane would have no protection from their use, or their abuse.
Dane’s reaction brought a smile to Tannace’s face. He stepped closer to the bars, placing himself between Dane and the Colonel.
“As a student of the Empire, I’m sure that you know that the old U.S.R. codes were never abolished here. They remain in effect today, and you will be so charged,” Tannace did not bother to hide his pleasure as the reality of the situation sank into Dane. I am a prisoner outside of the protection Kallaket law. He felt a hard knot of anxiety growing in his stomach. He recovered as best he could manage.
“Even the Earth Sanctuary must have laws which protect the rights of the accused.”
“We do. You are entitled to a fair hearing-“
“Which will no doubt clear my name, and my family’s,” Dane’s interruption brought out the anger in Tannace again.
“As I was saying, you will get a fair hearing, you may choose a defender from among the Sanctuary populace-”
“Anyone?” Dane interrupted again, trying to take the initiative away from his opponent. This time Tannace shouted back at him.
“Yes, anyone!” the Colonel’s hand on his back calmed him again. “It will be of little matter, Cochrane. The evidence against you is overwhelming. You will be convicted and executed, so it would be pointless to waste your time with a defense.”
Dane eyed them both, Tannace’s seething rage and the Colonel’s icy glare frozen in the moment. “You will forgive me for trying,” was all he could muster in response.
“I will forgive you nothing,” said Tannace, shaking his head. It was clear that there would be no chance of a legitimate defense if these two had anything to say about it, and it seemed to Dane that was exactly as they had planned it. He cleared his throat and tried to breathe. The best he could manage was a few short tight breaths.
“Who will prosecute me?” he asked, still trying to formulate a response.
“I will,” said Tannace proudly.
“You?” said Dane, nodding, trying to buy time. He quickly poured through a litany of options as he had been trained to do. There were very few apparent to him. Best to go down fighting, father always said.
“Very well then. By your rules, I choose the lady as my defender.”
“But...that’s outrageous!” shouted the Colonel, her control broken as she pushed past Tannace. “I want you dead! Why would I help you?”
Dane smiled. His gambit had caught them both off guard. “I am within my rights, as you outlined them, and I need someone who understands the U.S.R. code. And the side benefits are too much to pass up,” he said sarcastically.
She stepped up close to the cell, seething. “Your arrogance sickens me, Cochrane!”
Dane’s response was taught and measured. “As your cowardice sickens me, Colonel,” he snapped back. “You kidnap a royal heir without cause by subterfuge and deceit, try to murder me, then seek to put me on trial for what are obviously lies. You defame my father and my family, all the while claiming to be the injured parties! This whole process is a crime against my person, the Kallaket, and the Imperium. You will pay one day soon, lady, as will this phony ‘General’.”
Her face disclosed nothing but contempt for him now. “The Corporate Empire of Man will fall one day, as will your father’s sick rule. Your death will send a clear message throughout the empire that tyranny has no home on Quantar. Sleep well, Cochrane. Tonight is your last in the land of the living,” then she turned and walked purposefully away. Tannace’s only response before joining her was to spit neatly through the bars, the saliva passing unimpeded through the stunfield and landing at Dane’s feet. He had only a moment to compose a response.
“Lady, am I not entitled to know the real name of my defender?” he called after her. To his surprise she stopped, looked at Tannace, then came back a few steps.
“I am Colonel Axel Noiman, of Quantar, your defender. Remember it well Cochrane, for it is all you will ever have of mine.” And then they were gone, and Dane stood alone in his cell.